


White Knuckles

by In_Medias_Rose



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Nines, Bottom Upgraded Connor | RK900, Canon-Typical Violence, Deviant Upgraded Connor | RK900, Dorks in Love, Feelings Realization, First Time, Flirting, Fluff and Smut, Gun Violence, Hospitalization, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Mentions of Healing Injury, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Motorcycles, Police Procedural, Post-Canon, RK900's name is Conan, Recent Hospitalization, Robbery, Smut, Soft Gavin Reed, Top Gavin Reed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-24
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-07-01 17:25:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15778677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/In_Medias_Rose/pseuds/In_Medias_Rose
Summary: Gavin seems to be completely incapable of admitting his true feelings sober, and Nines finds it peculiar that it takes a gunshot wound to the abdomen to be open about something so simple.





	1. Making Shades Of Purple Out Of Red and Blue

“Officer Reed, we’ve got an armed robbery in progress at the MotorCity Casino on the corner of Temple and Brooklyn,” the dispatcher explained over the patrol car’s radio.

“Copy that. Me and Officer Conan are on our way.”

Instinctively, the RK900 android flipped the switch to turn on the sirens, giving his partner license to zoom past stop signs and red lights. Within 2 minutes, they arrived at the scene. 

From the car, Gavin could spy the suspect getting away. A bag of money slung over his shoulder and a pistol in his free hand. Hearing the sirens, the suspect ran. After a quick risk assessment, Gavin exited the car and gave chase. Conan followed suit.

The foot chase continued into the parking lot, until the assailant dived behind a car and began shooting. The two took cover behind a car a few yards away. The seconds crawled like hours as the glass and metal around them was being pumped full of holes.

Frustrated, Gavin fished out the gun from his holster.

“What’s the probability of success if I start shooting back, tin can?” Gavin asked as he loaded a magazine into his pistol. The android quickly focused his gaze towards his HUD.

“75% success rate, Detective,” Conan informed.

Only a 25% chance of failure….

Such a favoring statistic gave Gavin the courage to poke out from his cover and close the gap between them.

 

_BANG!_

 

The strength to continue stumbling forward even through the all encompassing pain of a bullet piercing his flesh.

 

 **_MISSION SUCCESS RATE: 60%_ ** **↓↓**

 

He saw the blood as it radiated out of his left side like a black halo against the dark greenish-blue of his shirt… The wetness on his hands, the iron on his tongue, Conan screaming his name… everything was slowly getting fuzzier and fuzzier. Darker, despite it being midday.

 

 **_MISSION SUCCESS RATE: 35%_ ** **↓**

 

“Detective, the suspect is getting away!” The android announced, “Detective Reed, do you copy!? Detective!”

 

 **_MISSION SUCCESS RATE: 25%_ ** **↓**

 

_…_

 

………

 

……

 

…

 

 _“Do you really think so low of me that I need a little helper, Captain?” Gavin asked, clearly displeased with such a notion._ _The brand new RK:900 model stood in the corner of the room. Its immaculate features were poised in a frown._

_“Don’t argue with me, Reed,” Jeffery retorted, “I already had Anderson to deal with; I don’t want to have to take a star off your good noodle chart.”_

_“Fine, fine,” he muttered under his breath, “But I don’t understand what I need a fucking android partner for?”_  

 _“What was that, Detective Reed?”_  

_“Nothing, Captain Fowler…” Gavin replied as he walked out of the office. His new, completely redundant partner followed him out into the break room._

_“I recognize the hostility you have towards me and other androids, Detective Reed—“_

_“I don’t hate you or other androids,” he interjected, “That’s not me anymore, trust me. It’ll just take a while for me to get used to you…”_

  _“You don’t? Wonderful! I hope we can maintain civil, productive relationship,” RK900 said happily._

_Before the android could notice the flush taking over his face and the largeness of his pupils, Gavin briskly left the break room with a quick, courteous smile obscured by the coffee cup pressed to his lips._

 

_…_

 

………

 

……

 

…

 

Gavin awoke not on the asphalt of the Motor City Casino’s parking lot, but in a bed… But this bed wasn’t his. This bed had pure white sheets, Gavin’s were blue. He looked over to his left and saw a…. a tubey thingy in the crook of his elbow.

_Oh shit._

Looking further up from what he now realized was a hospital bed, he spied a nightstand laid with pretty colorful… uh… flowers, cards with a bunch of blue squiggles, fluffy little bears….. “Get Well Soon” gifts he was familiar both giving and getting. He allowed his gaze to wander until he spotted… Coboler? Nono the _9th_ one…. Coran… Corrianderrrrrr. Wait no. Conan. _Yeah._

The android was sleeping in the chair _suuuuuper far_ _away_ from him. His coat was laid over him like a comfy blanket. Wait.... he was in a hospital bed, clearly. Why? Because... he got shot in the parking lot! But why was Conan's coat so shiny and clean?

“Nines..?”

Conan’s eyes fluttered open at the sound of his name; his LED flickered an electric blue.

“Good morning, Detective Reed,” he said with a sweet smile.

“Morning…? How long was I out?” He asked, speech slurring almost to the point of being unintelligible. No doubt in anyone’s mind that he’s higher than a kite on painkillers.

“Two weeks, Gavin.”

“Woah,” he responded, dragging out the syllables comically, “That’s a long time.” 

“It certainly is,” Conan said with a chuckle. He took Gavin’s hand into his and, unsurprisingly, he showed little resistance; only a dopey little smile.

He rubbed his thumb against the detective’s knuckles caringly as he thought about what lead him to this moment… the choice he was presented fourteen days, eight hours, three minutes and twenty five seconds ago in the parking lot of the casino.

 

_[SAVE REED] / [CHASE SUSPECT]_

 

He still remembered vividly the overbearing pressure of every nanosecond wasted as he weighed out the pros and cons. The guilt, the regret of telling him that his chance of success was so high… but he’s come to terms with his mistake since.

It was one of two things he preferred not dwelling on anymore. The other was the fact that the mission would have still been a success had he just left Gavin for dead and gave chase himself, but even now the thought of it turns his artificial stomach. An genuine emotion… a _deviation_ from his immediate programming.  

But this was not the time to think on these things. Conan would’ve much rather relish in the fact that his partner was alive. Loopier than cursive, but nonetheless alive and doing well in the hospital’s care.

Groggily, Gavin raised the hand Conan was holding to his lips and gave the android and gentlemanly, sincere kiss on the back of his hand.

“You’re pretty,” he said with a childish, toothy grin.

“Uh… thanks?”

 “You should be a model.”

 “I… Technically, I am an _RK900_ model, Gavin,” Conan informed, still unaware at what the appropriate response could possibly be.

 “Are you from……. tennis beach?”

_“What?”_

_“_ Because you stole my heart,” Gavin finished, clearly proud with… whatever the hell he just said.

“Right…. Oh, and by the way, Gavin,” he began, “I’ve been taking care of your pet snake while you were out.”

“You took care of Miles, Conan?” Gavin asked; eyes widening like a starstruck child.

“Yes, I took care of Miles,” he reassured. Impulsively, he combed this hands through the detective’s hair. It was soft and it felt nice against his hand.

Conan was thankful that Gavin didn’t notice, or at least wouldn’t remember, the white glow of his palm as it lingered in the tangle of chestnut brown strands. A dusting of pink decorated the detective’s cheeks and a smile crept onto his features.

Strangely, his eyes got glossier and his lip began quivering.

“I’m so glad you took care of him. I don’t deserve it,” he whimpered out pitifully, “I’m such a meanie that Miles is all alone while they make me into a mummy! All _alone_!”

“I’ll stay with you if you need,” Conan offered. He couldn’t leave Gavin alone like this. It’s important for humans to be in a good states of mind during healing processes, and clearly his continued presence would aid in Reed’s recovery. 

The quivering of Gavin’s lips stilled as he blinked the last of his tears away. Slowly, he wiggled himself to one side of the bed and patted the empty space beckoning Conan to lie down next to him.   
  
The android’s LED swirled a confused yellow. Clearly, Gavin wouldn’t take “this probably isn’t allowed” for an answer, given his compromised state, but…. He wasn’t sure if he’d be allowed. That was the problem…

After a moment’s consideration, Conan carefully positioned himself on the bed in such a way as to not disturb the vital machinery the detective was connected to and held him gently. A faint smile curled the corners of Gavin’s lips as he relaxed into the embrace. He pressed his scarred lips to the android’s temple in a sort of exhausted kiss. Conan’s HUD told him of a 5% uptick in his stress levels.

Conan reached for Gavin’s hand, figuring that maybe interfacing might help a little bit. Though, his plan was aborted upon remembering that interfacing is something only androids can do. Even so, Conan ghosted his bare fingertips over Gavin’s gently rising and falling, bandaged chest.

He looked so…. peaceful. For once Gavin’s face wasn’t contorted in annoyance or anger, but instead completely neutral save for the tiniest of smiles. The sight was… pleasant.

The android felt himself being lulled to sleep by slightly elevated body heat and the soft hum of machinery… until his auditory sensors picked up two pairs of footsteps coming towards the room.

Conan carefully slinked out of Gavin’s grasp and stood before an orderly were to come and yell at him. Besides, he figured, there’s paperwork that needs to be taken care of at the station. It was illogical of Conan to think he could stay the night anyways.

 “Conan…” the detective groaned in his sleep as he squirmed around in search of the body that used to be next to him.

 Taking pity upon the detective, Conan grabbed a pillow and placed it in Gavin’s arms.

 He walked towards the doorway but stopped at the threshold. There was something that drew his attention back to the bed behind him, something that compelled him to walk back and kiss Gavin on the forehead. Feather light and chaste. The feeling amplified by the involuntary retraction of his skin. Cyan dusted Conan’s cheek the moment his lips were lifted off his partner’s skin; humanoid color washing over mechanical white.

 Immediately, Conan’s mind shifted back to the paperwork he should be working on back at the precinct. The cyan on his face darkening to an azure hue when he heard Gavin mutter his name a second time.

 

* * *

 

“Conan! There you are!” Chris beamed, “How’s Gavin? I haven’t been able to see him these past few days because of work…”

 “Detective Reed has been doing very well, Officer Miller. He actually awoke this morning.”

 “That’s very good to hear...” Chris sighed in relief. “God, I was worried sick…”

 “I would prefer only one staff member out of commission, Miller,” Conan said with a smile. 

“Expression, tin man,” Chris retorted as he punched him in the arm playfully. “Anyways, anything else new?”

“Well… I do have something I’d like to ask you about Detective Reed. Since you are his friend, I figured you’d be one of the few people to have a definitive answer to my question,” he explained.

“...Go on?”

“Does he have a romantic interest in me?”

Chris stared at him blankly for a few moments as he took a sip of his coffee.

“What brought this on?” He questioned.

“Well…” Conan began, “While he was under the influence of painkillers, he was flirting with me?”

“God, I can only imagine how bad his pick up lines are in that kinda state,” Chris snickered.

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“What’s the answer you want to hear?”

 Conan, while annoyed at Miller’s deflection, was a bit taken aback. He didn’t know what kind of answer he wanted. Half of him was hoping for a yes, but the other was hoping for a no, and both were dreading an “I don’t know, go ask him yourself”.

 “I’d be content with whatever answer, so long as I get one,” he said; his sincerity tinged with a little annoyance.

 “Very strong answer, 900. Assertive; that’s exactly the kinda guy Gavin likes.”

 Gavin likes assertive men? He would consider himself pretty assertive. It is in his programming after all… what _isn’t_ in his program is excitement at the prospect of Gavin being interested in him.

 “Gavin likes…. guys like me? So… I take that to be a yes?”

 “I don’t particularly like lying, Conan,” Chris remarked with a knowing smile, “but I also don’t like breaking promises.”

 The android’s LED began to pulse a steady yellow, and his stress levels ticked up to 19.5%. All the pieces were falling into place. Gavin has been secretly crushing on him for...

 “4 months,” Chris answered.

“4 months, and he’s only been able to explicitly express it under the influence of fading anesthetic?... I don’t.. I don’t understand.”

“Well, that’s just how people are, Conan,” the officer explained, “Especially on things like this. It took me a year for me to make the first move on my wife, and that’s with my personality.” He leaned forward, his voice falling to a stage-whisper “Between you and me, the amount of times he’s rambled about how hot he finds you—””

“I wish there was a way he could tell me himself,” Conan wondered aloud.

“Well, you can’t straight up ask, for one. You have ease your way into that conversation naturally.”

 “But how do I ‘ease myself into that conversation’, Officer Miller?” Conan prodded.

 “Talking about the things you both like is a start,” he advised, “He already likes you, so it won’t be too difficult to sweeten him up... Oh, and Gavin likes it when guys are rough and rowdy. The really dominant types. Don’t tell him I told you that. 

“I see… Well, I think I have my strategy in order. I’ll employ it when he fully recovers…”

“Go get em, tiger,” Chris said as he gave him a fatherly pat on the back before grabbing a donut and exiting the break room.

_Gavin likes when guys are rough and rowdy. The really dominant types._

Interesting….


	2. Take a Trip Into My Garden I Got So Much To Show Ya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Desk duty ends more interestingly than initially expected...

The precinct’s overhead clock read 11:57pm. Even the people who work overtime are clocked out and at home sleeping, but today, Captain Fowler put Detective Reed and Conan RK900 on evidence filing duty. Tedious work. Mind numbing work that only an android would be completely content doing.

Gavin wished to be back on the field more than anything, but the ink is still fresh on the hospital release forms. He was at least glad that he was out of the house and being useful instead of being on _paid leave._ Paid fucking leave; an oxymoronic idea that made Gavin, never one to tolerate receiving something undeservingly, sick to his fucking stomach.

But, thankfully, here he was: making good use of his time scribbling some information onto a form, closing up the Manila folder, and passing it to Conan to be filed in alphabetical order.

They worked in comfortable silence. The kind that allows one to ruminate on their feelings towards their android partner; more precisely, the crush that’s been building and building for months now.

It didn’t help that Conan was extra on his ass since he woke up in the hospital; visiting him every single day, updating him on how Miles was doing, bringing him snacks, humoring him by playing whatever schoolyard hand-game he happened to remember from his childhood. Even during the weekend he was finally home, Conan would shoot Gavin the occasional text asking how he was, reminding him to take care of himself, even making miscellaneous conversation about the happenings in the precinct he was missing out on. Stuff like that made him feel… warm inside. The android seemed to be happier to be in his partner’s presence. More so than usual. Maybe Conan saw Gavin as something _more_ in the same way Gavin saw him, y’know?

God, Gavin was _hopeful_ like his heart hadn’t been smashed to pieces time and time again… _absolutely_ _revolting_ —

“Detective, it’s getting quite late. You almost done?” Conan asked.

“Yeah, just gimme a second, Nines,” Gavin reassured as he gathered the small pile of of folders on his desk and walked over to the file cabinet.

As he slid the folders into their appropriate sections, Conan rested his chin on Reed’s head. He smelled of gasoline, cigarette smoke, cologne, men’s shampoo… So distinctly human. Warm and organic with a touch of machinery.

“Hey, Conan? Sleepin’ on me?”

“Hm? No,” he sighed, “Your cologne smells heavenly, by the way.”

Heavenly? Gavin would never dare associate that kinda word with himself. That was just… not him in the slightest. He turned round to face the only other person in the room.

“I see you’re running sweet_talk.exe,” Gavin retorted with a snide smirk.

“Funny how that program only initiates when you’re around, Detective Reed.”

The android’s steely blue eyes panned to Gavin’s expression. He could see that his cheeks had taken on a red tint, and his bottom lip was pinned shut by his canine tooth. His plan was working out masterfully, but there was a certain darkness in Gavin’s eyes that implied that he was planning something with his own brand of impish mischief.

“Is that in the same folder as stare_at_your_coworker’s_ass_in_the_breakroom.exe?”

“With an accompanying.png file as well,” Conan replied with the smuggest of winks.

 _The nerve on this guy…_ _Two can play at this fuckin’ game._

“Wonder if you've got any files on being a good kisser, Conehead,” Gavin purred as he wrapped his arms around his neck.

A smirk curled the corners of the android’s lips.

Wordlessly, he slowly leaned his face towards Gavin’s, lips parted and eyes half lidded as an invitation. The heat of the kiss welded their bodies together, lulling the two of them into a passionate stupor before either could question it.

The detective’s fingers allowed themselves to slip past the magnetic clasp of his high collared shirt and explore the back of Conan’s neck as the kiss deepened; accidentally pressing firm onto exposed wires. A low groan resonated in the android’s throat before he broke off the kiss.

“Does that answer your question, Detective?” he said through a bitten lip; his face took on a cobalt hue, and his similarly colored eyes stared daggers into Gavin’s; completely unbothered by the openness of his shirt.

“With a resounding yes,” Gavin replied playfully, “Any more files you’d like to show me, RK900? The night is still young.”

“Certainly, Detective, but I don’t think showing you here would be ideal. Too many cameras,” he whispered seductively.

“Is that so? Would you find my apartment more ideal of a location?”

“The bathroom would’ve also been an acceptable answer.”

“Please,” Gavin scoffed, “Do I look 17 to you? If you’re gonna take me, take me properly. Grab your helmet and let’s hit the road.”

“My motorcycle is being repaired at the moment, Detective,” Conan informed.

“Mine isn’t. Go grab your helmet, and don’t you even think about driving it, Conehead,” he snarled as he walked towards the exit.

Conan, helmet in hand, followed suit into the parking lot until Gavin seated himself onto the only bike in the lot and revved its engine to life. It was a nice bike that sported an unpretentious, vintage look. Well driven and well maintained.

“Good to know you have experience in riding heavy machinery,” he teased.

“Oh, that’s not the last you’ll see of my experience with riding heavy machinery,” Gavin said enticingly as he straddled the bike, “Now hop on.”

The ride there, smooth and carefully steered as it was, was both agonizingly long and not long enough. The growl of the engine was much too loud for Conan’s sensitive auditory processors, but in lowering input volume, his inner voice filled the vacancy.

Self doubt loomed over the android like the streets lights that guide them down the highway. His hands, luminous white, hid bashfully behind the reddish brown fabric of Gavin’s shirt. Pale fingertips brushed over the raised tissue of Gavin’s abdominal scar. Only one of several. Conan’s own body was completely unmarred; emblematic of the key difference between them: Conan had knowledge, Gavin had experience.

It was a gigantic mistake to insinuate that he had any knowledge of intimacy beyond the dictionary definition. Chris advised him to be confident but how was he supposed to be confident when he was so out of his element? This is **not** in his programming at all, and rationalizing it in terms of a mission helped minimally.

Gavin slowed to a stop at his apartment complex. In the dim fluorescent light of the parking garage, Conan could see how the detective’s hair curled at the edges once his helmet was off. A stray lock stubbornly coiled itself past his hairline just above his left eyebrow.

“Your hair looks nice,” Conan said with thinly veiled sheepishness.

“You’re just on a roll with compliments today, Coney! What’s gotten into you?” Gavin teased, “I can’t be that attractive—”

“Who said?”

He was at a loss for words. The far-too-long pause was clue enough to the blush burning bright enough on his face to light all of Michigan, even though Conan was staring at his back as he unlocked his door.

“Forgive me if my house is a little messy,” Gavin apologized, “The wound was giving me so much hell I wasn’t able to clean up much.”

“Are you okay now?”

“Yeah, it’s gotten much better.”

“Good,” Conan said; his voice octaves lower than normal, “I wouldn’t want it to hinder the plans I have for us, Gavin.”

 _“_ Is that so? Well… we better get a move on, no?” Gavin asked as he snaked his hand up Conan’s chest and tightened his grip around his shoulder.

“Certainly, Detective. Will you lead the way or I?”

“Why don’t you take the reigns, doll?” he cooed as his arms wrapped around the taller man—or rather android’s—neck.

Next thing Gavin knew, he was flat on the bed with Conan’s tongue down his throat and his hands carelessly roaming around the sides of his legs. Sincere eagerness for the taste of human or for him specifically he wasn’t sure. Nonetheless, it was strange coming from someone like him.

He expected Conan’s touch to be more like a frostbite; sending shivers down his spine and leaving his skin radiating with intense heat when it left him. Instead, it came as an awkward burn reminiscent of a time when the only practical knowledge Gavin had on sex came from cheesy pornos. It certainly wasn’t bad, it was just…surprising.

“Coney… have you ever done this before?”

The blush on his face deepened to the deepest blue he’s ever seen on him. The android’s mind was racing wondering what he was doing wrong that lead him to think that he hadn’t. He was correct in that assumption—of course he was. Gavin, a _seasoned detective_ , isn’t stupid—but he doesn’t have to know _that_.

He could just lie.

A small white lie wouldn’t affect much, but why lie about something so small to begin with? Especially if his nervousness would be a dead giveaway? That would destroy Gavin’s trust in him; a fate worse than death.

He could be honest, but Chris said that Gavin likes to be dominated. He’d probably be annoyed having to teach him something he should already know. Why bother when you can find someone more experienced, right?

“Conan, it’s fine. You can tell me, I won’t be mad,” Gavin reassured softly.

“...I haven’t had any sexual encounters before, no,” he confessed, avoiding eye contact, “I’m sorry for misleading you.”

“Misleading me? Conan, you didn’t mislead me at all. If anything, I should’ve asked you back at the station.”

“Possibly,” he mumbled, “I’m sorry…”

“For? I really don’t mind taking it slow and showing you how it’s done.” Slowly, Gavin raised a hand to the android’s face and pressed his chin upwards; drawing his gaze away from his chest and to his eyes.

“Don’t be nervous, doll. We all have to learn how to walk before we run; android or no.”

Despite his reassurance, Conan stress levels were at a clean 37% and crawling upwards in slow motion. He was taken aback by Gavin’s demeanor. Sure, he wasn’t annoyed with him, that was extremely good, but… this patience? This understanding? Glad for it as he was, it was unexpected. By his nature, he was never good with unexpected.

Slowly, and with only enough force to be felt, Gavin returned to kissing him deeply. He felt Conan’s shaky hands drift down to the hem of his jeans and tug at his belt loops.

_Eager, eh, Tin Can?_

Mercifully, Gavin undid the pesky button and zipper that was keeping his zealous lover away from his prize. Conan’s tremors increased; every touch, no matter how faint, were like tendrils of fire burning his skin white hot. Literally. More literally than he’d like.

He dove his hands underneath the detective’s shirt, and the arch of his back allowed him to hide inhumanness of them even more. Gavin seemed to have a very positive response to this. To reciprocate, he dove his fingers into the thick of the wires nestled in his neck.

Had Conan been in a more sober state of mind, he would question why Gavin—of all people—knew of this android-specific erogenous zone, but his head felt like it was stuffed full of cotton. His stress levels trickled down like candle wax, but as much as he’d like to continue forever, he could sense Gavin needed to come up for air.  

When they separated, Gavin stared at Conan with an investigative look; a look Conan saw often, but it shook him to his very core to find it in _this_ context. He swiped his thumb over the android’s lips experimentally, which sent a visible shiver through his spine.

“Never thought I’d see you without your skin overlay,” Gavin sighed in bemused reverence.

Conan never knew his stress levels could go from 0 to 60 this quick.

“Well,” Conan began with a shaky voice, “Now you have.”

“You embarrassed, Conan?”

“No…” he said, despite the deep blue on his pure white face, “I’m fine. Let’s just continue.”

Smiling sweetly, Gavin obliged to his request. The seconds crawled by lazily as their hands pushed away cloth in order to glide across the warm skin underneath. The shame Conan had in his colorless chassis melted away.

Suddenly, Gavin’s lips began to drift downward; leaving a trail of white kiss marks in his wake, unobstructed by Conan’s jet black shirt.

“My my, Conan, showing your collarbones? So scandalous,” Gavin jested.

“Think you’ll last long enough to see my ankles?” Conan retorted, impressed that he mustered enough processing power or confidence to crack wise at him.

“Let’s hope,” he scoffed, continuing his path down his body until he reached the waistband of his pants. Eagerly, Conan wiggled himself out of the garment; leaving him stark naked on the bed.

Gavin’s mouth couldn’t help but water at the sight. It was like Cyberlife crawled into his wet dreams and built him to those exact specifications; smooth skin dappled with freckles, striking blue eyes, thick thighs, fat ass, abs, a prominent pelvic v leading his eyes down to just what he wants to see...

“So beautiful…” he thought aloud as he glided his hands around Conan’s perfectly sculpted chest; eliciting a soft, shaky exhale.

Usually he’d prefer—expect, even—someone like this be on top of him, but somehow _this_ was so much better. Something about his naivety, his eagerness to learn how to please him drove him wild.

“Gav, is this all you’re gonna do? I don’t mean to be rude—”

“This is just foreplay, Conan,” Gavin reassured, “Don’t worry, I have lots planned for us”

Conan swallowed nervously. “Like what?”

“I think it would be better if I just show you. You mind?”

“Not at all. I trust you.”

With that, Gavin began planting passionate kisses onto Conan’s neck. The tension in the android’s body melted away near instantly. He relished in the familiarity of Gavin’s lips on his skin; lost in it until he realized Gavin’s hands were roaming his lower body awaiting invitation. He thrust up and spread his legs slightly to express his approval.

Conan braced himself for another exciting sensation as the human slinked his digits between his legs. A strained moan was forced from his throat when Gavin pressed a finger into his hole.

“Shhhh, just relax, doll. It’ll feel better once you’re more comfortable, I promise.”

“I t-trust you,” Conan breathlessly repeated.

“Overwhelmed?”

“Y-yes”

“That’s fine, hon. I know it’s all new and strange, but just relax,” Gavin cooed, his breath hot against Conan’s cobalt skin as he slowly thrusts his finger in and out, “We can take a break—“

“No… it feels good..” Conan choked out; head positively swirling and LED blinking blue and yellow rapidly. He felt a searing pressure build and build up from the bottom of his stomach that caused him to writhe helplessly. It was like Gavin— _that silver tongued devil_ —was leading him to the edge of a cliff, and by god, he would dive happily.

The hands gripping the sheets and patches across his body lost their skin overlay as the pressure kept building and building. Conan moaned Gavin’s name over and over with increased desperation, his LED blinking between blue and yellow.

It wasn’t long before the pressure was released with a long cry. His cock twitched and throbbed as ribbons of white shot out and coated his stomach, invisible atop his chassis. His entire body tightened up as the waves of overwhelming pleasure crashed over him.

“G-Gavin? That was… an orgasm, right?” Conan huffed, feeling utterly stupid that he even needed to ask.

“Yes, it was,” he answered, “Felt good, didn’t it?”

“ _Amazing,_ ” he sighed, “C-could you do that again? That—t-that thing with your fingers…”

“I could give you something better, if you’re willing,” Gavin purred.

“Better..? Could you show me?”

“Would love too, Conan.”

With a mischievous grin, Gavin positioned himself between his legs and pulled his shirt up over his head before tossing it haphazardly onto the floor. His pants and boxers followed soon after.

Conan looked the human over. A light dusting of brown hair fell upon his chest, growing over the scars and clusters of tiny freckles that were speckled across his toned body. Between his legs lie genitalia of above average length and girth for someone of his height.

“Like what you see, doll face?” Gavin teased, “Take a picture, it last longer.”

“I can access my memory banks at any time in both video and picture form,” Conan teased back.

“Can you share it?”

“Not without your consent, but I don’t know if I would want to. It feels nice to have something all to myself.”

“I can certainly relate,” Gavin growled as he tightened the grip on his hips possessively; kissing a trail from Conan’s neck to his lips.

Gavin’s lips locked with Conan’s muffled the android’s moans as he eased himself inside. A foreign, intoxicating blend of pleasure and pain filled every synthetic nerve.

“You’re not in pain, are ya, doll?” He asked breathlessly.

“F-far from it, G-Gavin… You feel incredible…”

“Ditto, babe… I’ll go slow, okay? If you need a change of pace, just say—”

“Gavin, please,” Conan whined impatiently. As much as he appreciated the lengths he was going to make sure he felt comfortable, his body was burning a bright blue, aching and trembling for the detective to grab him by the waist and pound into him.

Gavin, thankfully, caught on to his desperation and returned his lips to Conan’s; thrusting at a firm, deliberate pace.

Conan’s head swirled, the colors of the room melted into a navy blue haze. He gripped the detective’s hair and wrapped his legs around his middle like he was his last tether to reality.

He wanted the pleasant touches to never leave him, the warmth pooling in his lower body and in his face to never escape into the cold night, for all this to last forever. How thankful he was that Gavin listened closely to every choked out _“Don’t stop!”_ and every strained _“More, please!”_.

The building pressure in his loins returned—something he now recognized as being indicative of an orgasm—with an increased intensity. Through his haze, he noticed the bright red tint of Gavin’s skin. He seemed just as close as he was.

It wasn’t long before the both of them unraveled almost simultaneously. As Conan came down from his high and all the colors in the room stilled, he could feel Gavin huffing exhaustedly onto his neck and the sweat welding their bodies together.

After a few moments, Gavin peeled himself away from on top of Conan. He rummaged through the pajama drawer on the left side of the bed, and pulled out two pairs of sweatpants and a t-shirt a few sizes larger than his actual size. Conan was handed the sweatpants and t-shirt combo, which fit him nice and snugly.

“I don’t want you to feel cold,” Gavin explained sheepishly.

A true gentleman. Not a particularly knowledgeable one, because only deviants have similar senses of temperature to that of a human, but the gesture still brought a smile to his face nonetheless. 

The android’s smile widened when, instead of wearing his own shirts, Gavin opted instead to wear his button down instead.

The garment was so loose around him and hung to almost dress length. He looked small… cute, dare he say, all curled up and sleepy. There was something off about his expression, though. It wasn’t relaxed like the one he’d seen when Gavin was in the hospital, rather he looked pained. A low growl resonated in his throat as he rubbed his abdomen.

“Gavin, if it still hurts, you should take Fowler’s offer of a week’s paid leave,” Nines said kindly.

“...Y’know what? I’ll take it, but on one condition.”

“That...?”

“That you stay here and take care of me,” Gavin answered; half joking-half serious.

“I’d be glad to.”

“Really? That’s awesome,” he said, “...God, imagine if the boys back at the station heard about all this...”

“What would it matter if your friends knew?”  
  
“Haha, you’re right... who cares what other people say anyways?”  
  
_Oh, we can go far from the end_  
_And make a new world together baby_  
_'Cause if you give me just one night_  
_You're gonna see me in a new light_  
  
Seems as though the little record player in Gavin’s brain started up in remembrance of this song...New Light by John Mayer; a song he could barely believe was 20 years old, but could 100% believe it’ll be stuck in his head until sleep forces the ear worm out.  
  
He had heard something about how if you skip to the end of the song it’ll get out of your head faster a while ago...  
  
_What do I do with all this?_  
_What do I do with all this love that's running through my veins for you_  
  
Well, isn’t that an interesting question...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took so long to finish rippppp but its finally done!! Comments and kudos are always welcome and encouraged

**Author's Note:**

> Soooooo hi! After 2 years and phasing out of the MGS fandom, here I am with a new fic! I've been obsessing over 9Gav for a while, so it only felt natural I finally flex my polished up writing skills to do this pairing justice. Hope you guys like it~
> 
> Will be adding more tags as the fic updates ;)


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